Progression repression
by ReeReeWithAngst
Summary: Lincoln is dead. Trip isn't, and has married Jemma. Things aren't how they're supposed to go. But Fitz's new but not surprising relationship with Daisy could potentially be better. If they can both let go of who they were and who they loved. (Give it a shot please, I worked hard on this)


**This is my first Skitz/Ditz/Quitz Fanfic, but I am so happy with how it turned out. It took me forever to write and it is different from the first draft, but I hope someone enjoys it as much as me. *Sends love out to everyone***

 **Also, yes I ship FitzSimmons wholeheartedly, but I have always also entertained a place in my heart for what I once referred to as Skyeo.**

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It wasn't that he wasn't getting better, but Adele still put a lump in his throat and Frozen Yogurt could only do so much.

It was Daisy's turn to pay, not that she actually did. She was still borderline klepto, but she had other ways of getting the young and naive cashier to give her free yogurt. She probably just used her, um... Ah, uh.. um... Uh... Boobs.

That's the only explanation.

So he had to wait in the car, be a good little boy as to not alert her flirt that she had a boyfriend.

That wouldn't be good for their discount.

She was taking forever though, so he figured he better at least be getting sprinkles as well. While he waited he fiddled with the radio dial, flipping back and forth.

And that's when he encountered the Adele. Not just any Adele, not the catchy, addicting Send My Love (To your new lover) or the tolerable, easily triggered Hello. No. It had to be the song most likely to depress him. Someone Like you rang so true in his life that it was painful. He'd used to sing along in the lab if the dial stumbled upon it, Simmons would always laugh and tell him he didn't quite hit the right notes most of the time. That had been when things weren't half so complicated, and he hadn't had to look for someone like her.

Not that Daisy was anything like her, and that was just fine in his opinion. He stared out the window and rolled one down, silently begging Daisy to come back while a few tears filled his eyes.

A lazy mosquito floated in and jabbed him right below the elbow. He could have turned his icer on it in a blind rage, but merely swatted it down and scowled through the forming tears.

"Great, Malaria. Malaria and Adele. Just peachy." He rolled up his window and focused on the words.

"I hate to show up out of the blue uninvited..." That wasn't exactly true, Simmons had made it very clear that he was welcome at her wedding, and he hadn't even showed up. That was the part that was out of the blue. He'd wanted to be supportive, and Daisy had offered to be his wedding date, even though Lincoln was still in the picture at the time. But he couldn't possibly bear it. Not supporting his best friend was the _hardest_ thing he'd ever done, but there was no way he would have been able to attend her and Trip's wedding. He'd sent a card, and a housewarming gift, and tried to be as happy for them as possible but...

There was no one like her.

Antoine Triplett knew that. Simmons had saved him from the cavern the day Daisy, Skye then, had gotten her powers. After that their relationship had been natural. Simmons was in love with the fact that she'd been able to save someone, and Trip was nothing if not a charmer. And then, while things worsened with hive, he'd proposed.

They'd married quickly, before things could get even more chaotic. Fitz had spent the day in his lab. Every other agent he was close with had gone to the wedding. Daisy and Lincoln brought him cake.

Then there was the whole Lincoln situation. But no matter, that was a problem for another playlist and Daisy had come back with their frozen delicacies. And rainbow sprinkles. _Perfect._

She was fairly perceptive for someone who hadn't gone to the Academy, perceptive enough to notice tears, at least.

"You've been listening to Adele again haven't you?" She scolded.

"Um..." He mumbled, embarrassed at his emotional state.

"That won't do." She rummaged in the glove compartment, and he recalled being angry at her.

"What took you so long?"

"Why, afraid I don't love you?" She smirked, distracting him from the cd she'd slipped into the player.

"Afraid you love yogurt boy more." He shot back.

" _Relax_ I was just getting us the senior discount."

"You don't look a day over twenty four." He accused. She laughed. She hadn't laughed as much lately. Why would she? Her love had died. He had lost his love too, in a different way. And yet they'd clicked together, and now, on occasion, they could laugh.

Then the music started. He shot her a horrified glance.

"Daisy no!" It was a beg. An utter plea of desperation.

"Daisy _yes_." She purred. The energetic epic began and he put his head in his hands.

"Just eat your ice cream." She encouraged.

"It's yogurt."

"I don't care." She was singing along, singing and dancing to Fall Out Boy's The Phoenix. If she wasn't so cute when she did this he would have ejected the CD and snapped it in half. But she was adorable to the point of it being _painful_. So he couldn't.

For a few minutes they ate and she danced, but then he pulled the car into motion and both knew where they were going.

After all, no date is complete without death and depression.

"Did you bring flowers this time?" Daisy asked.

"Just you." He joked sadly. She looked like him.

"No but yeah I did." The Scotsman half-apologized.

"Though he'd be happy with just you."

"Yeah well he doesn't get me." She took his head and they were silent.

"He would've." Fitz mumbled finally.

"What was that sweetheart?" She only used that word when she was about to lay down some facts.

"He would've gotten you, had he remained alive." There hadn't been the same kind of tenseness between he and Lincoln as there always had been with Trip. Not because the love was any less real with Daisy, but because it was just so much of a different kind of love. The kind of love that sat in a car and ate yogurt and listened to music you couldn't stand. The kind of love that would waltz over the graves of past loves.

"Must we do this again sweetheart?" He was getting wary of the double use of sweetheart, but pulled the daisies from the back as they got out at the cemetery.

"Yes?" He guessed.

"I'm not even going to pretend that I loved you and Lincoln the same. You're both so different."

"Who did you love more?" He prompted, anxious and antsy as they matched strides.

"You're asking me to choose between two completely different things. It's like asking me to pick my favorite dog and then giving me the option of a kitten and puppy."

"Am I the kitten or the puppy?"

"Why does that matter?" She laughed. He put on a solemn face.

"This is a matter of national security Miss Johnson answer me _honestly_ am I a  puppy or a kitten?"

"Ugh Kitten clearly." She said, as she cracked up. He laughed too. They kept walking through the cemetery, as Lincoln's grave was farther back. As they walked, side by side, he gave her half of the flowers to place down. When they reached the shady and secluded spot they were silent, paying respects. Then they set down the flowers and set to pondering.

"I loved Lincoln for different reasons Fitz. I loved him because he understood what being an inhuman was like, and because he..." Daisy trailed off.

"Was a puppy?" He guessed.

"Quite possibly."

"So why do you love me?" He said it as a whisper. She took his hand and seemed to be about to answer when something very different came out instead.

"Do you think we just can't move on? Do you think that it's only our hurt and thinking that we're not good enough that keeps us locked in this relationship?"

"Are we locked?" He asked, his Scottish accent tiny and nervous. She took her hand back and rubbed her face, wishing she hadn't said that.

"No, No Leo..." Another thing. She never called him Leo. Sweetheart was for truth bombs. Leo was for guilt. She was guilty. He was guilty now too, for making her feel guilty. Things were spiraling out of control.

"Well, did you mean that you don't even love me? That this relationship we're "locked" into only exists because we both failed at romance before and were trying to find something, anything else? Is that all I am Skye-" Skye was a reach too, a rarely used name, but a trigger, and she physically winced when he pulled it out,

"A replacement? Because I know how I feel and what I've said about Jemma, yes she was the world to me but I _never_ saw you as just a replacement, as just a stand in so my heart didn't completely collapse in on itself. For the cosmos sake I **LOVE** you!" He was angry, and scared.

"We shouldn't fight." She whispered, even though she could win that fight and bury him deeper than Lincoln. Of course, Lincoln was the exact reason she didn't want to fight.

"Not here. Not in front of-"

"It's an empty grave Daisy!" Fitz nearly screamed. The few other mourners there were definitely hearing their domestic dispute. She caused the ground to rumble a little.

"We're getting in the car. I'm driving." She said it stern enough that he knew not to mess with her. They were silent as they marched, in step together, but definitely not in sync. His mind was in turmoil, shutting down again. Throwing up facts, little things like, "You have always loved Jemma," and then, to balance the scales, "You have always loved Skye." Skye, Daisy, Quake, he loved her whatever name she took on.

Whatever name, except replacement.

He wouldn't do that. Couldn't be that. He felt himself crumble as he walked. He passed her the car keys numbly.

She wasn't any less in turmoil.

All she had been suggesting was that they move on from who they'd been and who they'd loved. Their little self pity club was a fun first few dates but they both needed the sweet breath of oxygen that was letting go of their losses.

Fitz had been without oxygen before and it had physically hurt him, crippled him for awhile. And this damage would be a lot harder to repair if he refused to start breathing again.

There was no doubt in Daisy's mind that she loved Leopold Fitz with every fiber of her being.

And all she wanted to do was stop seeing him hurt.

So when he got in the car, that's exactly what she told him.

"I love you. I love your fake American accent and your real Scottish one and the dorky way you flirt. I love your hair and your eyes, and the way you sometimes forget and make me tea even though I don't like it. I love that you try more than anything to make us work and I am so sorry if you don't think I was trying my hardest, but I am. That's why I brought up us not being able to move on. Not because you're a replacement, you're not a replacement. You're not second best, you're not me settling. I am happy with you. And I want to continue being happy with you for a very long time. Which is why we need to move on. I loved Lincoln. You loved Jemma. But they're not in our lives any more. You were right! They're empty graves. You are not letting yourself progress as a person, you're just reliving your good times with Jemma and then wondering if you're good enough for anyone. You _are_. You're more than good enough. You're amazing. No more comparing ourselves to them. Let's just be us. No more trips to the graveyard. No more complaining about them. Us. And yes, we are locked, but don't think that I regret that. Some things are meant to be locked. That just means we'll last forever." She took his hand. He looked at her, his eyes more than a little moist.

"Us." Was all he said, but he repeated the word over and over like it was a new kind of symphony, or a rare secret that had just met his lips.

"Oh, and Leopold," There was Leopold, her third yet not final name for him, the teasing one. He gave her a wary smile, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Yes us?" She nearly snorted at his dorky romance, the same one she would forever love.

"You have a rainbow sprinkle stuck to your stubble." He laughed hard, checking the passenger side mirror and flicking it away. They hadn't even pulled out of the parking lot, and probably wouldn't until it got late. This _would_ be the last time they sat in the cemetery parking lot, and to celebrate, she kissed him.

"What? Kissing me on the cheek like my grandmother? Really selling our relationship there." He teased.

She simply blasted Fall Out boy, to make him pay.

But not before he secured a long, lovely kiss on the lips.


End file.
